


Kinda wanna make us happen (so stop smiling at me like that)

by cookiedoug



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Living Together, M/M, Marriage, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Pining, well maybe not that oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiedoug/pseuds/cookiedoug
Summary: They are not friends or anything. Most of the time Billy only gets to see him like this, in passing. An almost daily coincidence. On days like today, waiting for the kids around a cigarette. On the days Steve stops by the gas station during Billy's shift to refuel the BMW. When he sees him in the distance, walking by, like those people you see only in the movies. Sunglasses on. White, pristine Nikes, a smile more expensive than all the money Billy will ever have in his hands. Million-dollar Steve Harrington, with his million-dollar smile. Completely unattainable for someone like Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	Kinda wanna make us happen (so stop smiling at me like that)

  
"Okay. What would you go for, then?"

"I don't know. Johansson, maybe? I like that" says Steve, thoughtful, dropping down next to Billy, his back against the boiling side of the Camaro" _Ooor_ -oh! Williamson! That one sounds good. Steve Williamson. What do you think?"

"Weird." Billy taps his cigarette butt with his thumb, blowing the ash, "I think it sounds _weird_. And I don't know why you want to change it, if all of those rhyme with the one you already have”

Steve rolls his eyes. The screams from the pool come gusty, like the wind that has risen from the east. The kids are already more than fifteen minutes late.

"Let's see. You try. I'm sure you'll have a knack for it"

Billy should get mad about his haughty tone, but what he feels instead is that tone describing a line that travels straight down from the hollow of his throat to just below his navel. The wind has extinguished his cigarette when he brings it to his lips. He throws it. Steals Steve's.

"Hey!"

"I don't know" he hits a puff, pretends to ignore him "I like the one you have. Sounds good. Ha-rring-ton. Haaaa _rring_ TON ”

"You only like it because you use it to harass me"

Billy can't help but smile. Wide. Cheeky.

" _May_ be"

Billy shouldn't know about this last name thing. It's not like he and Steve have anything remotely close to that kind of familiarity. They are not _friends_ or anything. Most of the time Billy only gets to see him like this, _in passing._ An almost daily coincidence. On days like today, waiting for the kids around a cigarette. On the days Steve stops by the gas station during Billy's shift to refuel the BMW. When he sees him in the distance, walking by, like those people you see only in the movies. Sunglasses on. White, pristine Nikes, a smile more expensive than all the money Billy will ever have in his hands. Million-dollar Steve Harrington, with his million-dollar smile. Completely unattainable for someone like Billy.

Because, that’s it, people like Steve Harrington happen to people like Billy Hargrove only _in passing_. And he knows, he _knows_ , but he can't help but force those coincidences a little sometimes, push them into happening, like dropping by the Mall to fetch an ice cream on the Scoops –even if it _really_ does have the best stuff in town–, accidentally catching a conversation ("Dingus. I vote for dingus. That’s your new last name" and "Thank you, Robin. I'm _glad_ you're taking it so seriously" and "I take it seriously. Steve Dingus. Think about it"). And Billy is curious now. As he always is, inevitably, about all things regarding Steve Harrington.

"And why do you want to change it?"

"I'm gonna-" Steve hesitates. Draws a long, curved line with his shoe, staining the tip with the dusty ocher dirt of the gravel "I'm gonna leave"

It's a curious thing. One moment it feels like there's plenty of air filling your lungs, and the next, you have nothing.

"From Hawkins?"

"Eh? No. No” Steve takes a deep breath, “Only from my parent’s house”

Billy doesn't know if when your heart skips a beat you can ever get it back, but if not, Steve Harrington owes him this one.

But he sounds cool, perfectly collected when he speaks again. A long, hard-learned ability.

"And the last name thing?" 

“My father– He's always saying this shit,” he sighs, makes his voice even more serious, rounds it in an exaggerated imitation of his father “This – _You're not worthy to carry the Harrington name–_ shit _._ So."

Billy knows a lot about asshole fathers and never meeting impossible expectations. If he could, he would erase every trace of Neil off himself, even if he's not sure how much would be left after that.

"Yeah"

He hands him the cigarette and Steve accepts it with a small smile.

"It will cost me almost everything I have. But, you know, is worth it"

Billy frowns.

"Don't you have like, a shitload of money?" 

"Not if I leave" Steve shrugs, turns his head in the direction of the pool, throat working "If you leave casa Harrington, you leave casa Harrington for good. No car, no inheritance, no nothing. We’re not– in the best terms right now. My father and I" 

Billy wants to know about that too–he wants to know _everything_ – but it seems like too much to ask. 

Steve's head lulls down. The wind picks up momentum over the curve of his back, ruffles his hair in a whirlpool. He puffs on the cigarette.

It's the closest Billy is ever going to get to his lips.

"Well, welcome then, to bottom of the bottom of the social scale. I’m sure you’re gonna enjoy yourself down here, surrounded by the poor and the unprivileged “

He means it as a joke, but realizes he has screwed up the moment the words leave his lips. Steve’s face twists into something sad and ashamed and Billy is a fucking asshole that needs to stop and think before opening his big, stupid mouth. 

"I guess so," he says, lips pressed thin. And God, Billy is like a fucking elephant, stepping on every delicate thing. He should know better than making it worst.

_Fuck._

Because is not as he can’t imagine the reason why Steve wants to get away from Robert Harrington. Why he needs to stop being someone so small under such a large shadow. Because Steve it’s not like that. It’s not some selfish and self-centered prick. Steve is caring and protective and so, so good.

And Billy is totally gone for him.

"You can have mine" he says, and immediately wants to smack himself in the head because _though you were gonna start thinking before speaking, Hargrove._

Steve looks at him, curious and a bit confused. Billy inhales. _Deep_.

"Can what?"

"My last name" he says, because Steve is looking at him intently, and there’s nothing he can do now "I hate it. You can have it if you want”

And _Jesus_ , he feels so stupid right now. It’s like he can’t control his fucking mouth when he's around Steve, like he’s still seventeen and trying so hard to impress him. Fishes inside his back pocket for the pack of cigarettes. He can see Steve’s smile growing in the corner of his eye. And ok. That’s ok. Billy is a big-mouthed asshole. But Steve is smiling now, so ok.

At least he made it better.

"I don't think Steve Hargrove sounds very cool either, truth be told"

But it does. _It does._ And Billy is turning red, warmth spreading through his face, burning on the tips of his ears.

"It’s better than Johansson"

"That’s true" He does this thing he does sometimes, this thing of fixing his eyes on Billy and instantly looking away, elusive, and Billy's body tightens as if ready to hunt him down, thrumming with the blind impulse of reach after him. In this distance, he can see all the moles that dot his skin, delicate and beautiful, the long to touch them hurts at his fingertips.

"How are you going to do it?"

“No fucking idea,” he shrugs. “I guess I can stay at Dustin's for a few days and try to come up with something from there. I don't really have anything planned. I just want–". He doesn't say it, like he’s not able to find the words. Like it’s less formed thought and more feeling. But there’s no need because Billy knows them all. He has an interminable list of them. It starts with freedom, with independence, with _never again_. He yelled them all at his father when he got away last year. Max is the only reason he hasn’t flown from Hawkins yet. 

Well, not the _only_ reason. Just the only that’s not a fucking dream.

“No fucking idea” Steve repeats like an echo, huffs a laugh that comes out ragged. Nervous. Like he’s caught up in that thought. _How are you gonna do it?._

And Billy is an adult now. Shouldn’t be losing his self-control around a boy like this anymore. Even if that boy is Steve Harrington. Should be able to _stop his fucking mouth_ for fuck’s sake.

But he asks, anyway.

"Wanna crash at my place?"

“Uh?”

Steve’s brow furrows. Most days it ain’t easy to tell apart the color of his eyes, irises so dark they mix with the pupils, but the sun is sinking low now, golden light brightening them lighter, a soft shade of brown. Billy tries not to think about how impossible he is, how out of reach even like this, so close to him, side to side, their bodies brushing. 

"While you figure it out, I mean. Or, you know, I could use a roommate, share the rent, once you regain some money, I mean”

It's a stupid offer and he knows it, because people like Steve Harrington never really happen to people like Billy Hargrove, only like this, the luck to steal a few moments, a coincidence.

"Really?" Steve asks with something completely, disarmingly unexpected. Something like hope.

He gets up, looks at Billy like he’s trying to decipher something.

"No. Not really. Didn't you just hear me, Harrington?” He says, uses his best unrepentant asshole tone. Lights another cigarette “I'm wasn't _by any means_ inviting you or something"

And Steve _smiles smiles smiles_. And Billy has never-ever wanted to kiss someone so much, and for so long, and be able to hold himself back.

"Jesus, Hargrove" Steve breathes out a laugh, and he's _beaming_ , and Billy doesn't have the slightest idea how he managed to do _that_ "Is there anything you are not willing to give me?"

And he’s kidding, of course he is, but the words hit like a blow, straight to his solar plexus and Billy is not fast enough, he wasn’t prepared. So when he lowers his head, he’s sure Steve has seen it all, right there in his eyes.

_Everything._

He lights the cigarette, fills his lungs till he feels them burning. 

"You take it or what?"

"I take it" he says. Low and soft like it is something intended only for Billy to hear "And, you’re right, by the way”

“Uh?”

“It sounds better the more I think about it"

(This is how it goes:

Steve never gets to change it.

He moves in with Billy. Needs the money (because “No, no, no. You’re not gonna pay fo _r all our food_ ¿You want me to die of embarrassment? Wait. Wait. Don’t answer that) so he postpones it because, there's no rush, really (“And you keep calling me HAAaarrrring _ton,_ so feels a bit like a waste”) it was one those in-the-heat-of-the-moment kind of decisions anyway so (“No. It was no _childish_. You’re an asshole. Ok, well. Yeah. That I can accept. It was not the _most_ _practical)_ it ends up on undefined hiatus.

And then they start joking about it. Billy calls him “Mr. Hargrove” (“Good morning, Mr. Hargrove” or “Wanna go to the movies tonight, Mr. Hargrove?” or “You forgot to do the dishes yesterday, Mr. Hargrove, that's five bucks to the forgotten-dishes jar _, Mr. Hargrove_ ”) and Steve uses his, when replies, in a fairly accurate impersonation (“ _You_ owe like, twenty dollars to that jar, Harrington. So you are not to speak”) and keeps on using it against him on a regular basis (“Gosh, Harrington, you're such softie. And think that you used to be such a hard-ass on High School” every time Max convinces him to take her shopping).

And, truth be told, Steve never hated it _that much_. Kind of loves it, now that his father hasn’t power over him anymore, now that it's Billy who uses it, rides the letters like a wave, Har _rign_ TON, piling up the syllables like in a roller coaster. When he says,

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Harrington” falling asleep against his shoulder on the couch.

When he says,

“I miss you, Harrington. This is so boring without you” that time Steve took the kids on a camping trip for a whole week.

When he says,

“I can’t stop myself from kissing you anymore, Harrington. So this your chance to step away”

They hyphenate, at the end.

There are a lot of _H_ s and _R_ s and _G_ s, that they share, and Steve wants them all.

They toss a coin in the air.

“Are you sure you haven’t cheated, pretty boy? You look too smug to not be lying”

“ _Why_ would I? But we can switch, if you want to”

“Nah, I think it sounds pretty good, actually” Billy says. Kisses him “Better the more I think about it”)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://withoneheadlight.tumblr.com/)! <3


End file.
